Prisoner
by SoulMalady
Summary: A raid of a Dark Army safe-house reveals one startling prisoner. Now Head Auror Harry Potter needs to figure out if the Dark Army knows something crucial that the Ministry doesn't. He needs to work with the prisoner to get that information. But Draco Malfoy doesn't turn out to be as black-and-white as he seems. Harry/Draco SLASH! Complete... for now.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

"Good work," Harry congratulated his team with a curt nod. The Aurors were bringing out Dark Army fugitives from the rundown headquarters the officers had just raided. Many were bound by invisible restraints due to their frantic demeanor. All of them had resisted arrests, which made the Aurors' jobs a lot easier since they had yet another charge they could process the criminals through. They were already charging the whole lot for human trafficking and suspicion of bartering abusive substances for weapons. These were blacklisted men and women who had been involved in the Second War that had ended seven years ago. The Ministry was still cleaning up that mess.

Harry was immensely glad when one of his officers brought him a folder of parchments that seemed to be shipping schedules and orders. He could use those addresses to make sure at least _some _of the worldwide ties of the Dark Army were severed. He entered the dark house once it was emptied of criminals, keeping his hands in his pockets and scrutinizing the place from behind his glasses. It smelled disgusting, as though the squatters had been cramped in there for months without any real interaction with the outside world. Although there wasn't any trash on the floor, the whole house had a dank and moldy atmosphere around it.

He searched the living room and the dining room where most of the official personnel were gathered, collecting as much evidence as they could. There were tables on which maps and coded messages were scattered. The kitchen had minimal food, but many illegal potions and drugs were found in the cupboards. He twitched his nose. He smelt more than a few dead rats in there too, most likely hidden under the kitchen cabinets.

He then ventured upstairs. It seemed to be the living quarters of the fugitives. They didn't live well, he could tell that. The beds had almost no sheets and none of them had pillows. There was no need for curtains because the windows were blacked out to deter peeking eyes. It seemed all seven of them were sharing two bathrooms. Harry decided against going in there. He would let the technicians work that out. Besides that, there were no personal effects anywhere. These people were leading the lives of spies.

He went back downstairs to speak with his team. They would have to move fast, before word got out that they had gotten their hands on valuable information regarding the Dark Army's movements. But before he could catch the attention of one of his men, he was drawn towards an inconspicuous door that stood just under the stairs, too small to allow him to walk through it without ducking his head. His breath caught in his throat when he was reminded of the cupboard under the stairs at the Dursley's. He pulled his wand out as he shook his head to get rid of that sudden onslaught of memories. He hadn't thought of that house in years…

He touched the wand to the doorknob and the door opened inwards.

It wasn't a cupboard.

There were stairs leading down into a basement.

"For fuck's sake," Harry swore under his breath. He stormed into the living room. "No one thought to search the basement?" he spat out.

Everyone turned to look at him in confusion. "Basement?" a few of them murmured between themselves.

Harry growled in exasperation as he jerked a thumb at Jordan, asking him to follow. The young Auror looked immensely surprised when he saw the open door that Harry stood in front of. "Gosh, I didn't even think to look there," he said.

"Yeah, figured," the Head Auror muttered. "Wand ready?"

"Yes, sir."

Harry lit up his wand wordlessly and shone it down the steps. It looked sturdy, made of concrete. Cold. He ventured down first, being careful not to make any unnecessary sounds. Jordan followed behind him. A few twenty steps down, they ended up on the landing. The basement was unfinished and there were naked pillars around them. The smell of mold was most prominent there as well, most likely due to the humidity in the locked cellar. The walls were bare and grey. The floor was cracked at places. Their lights didn't shine bright enough to illuminate the entire basement.

But all noises down there were amplified twofold.

Harry quickly reached back and forced a hand against Jordan's chest, making him jerk to a halt. They listened to the fading echoes of their footsteps.

Then they heard it again, the faint sound of stifled breathing.

"Shit," Jordan mouthed. They had missed someone. His boss was going to be pissed.

Harry crept down the dark hall with the wall hugging his left side and his wand held in his right, unwavering and ready for a fight. As he moved forward, he could hear sounds getting louder. The breathing was accompanied by the clink of metal. He made sure to keep his footsteps light. Even though his wandlight gave him away, he didn't want to provoke whoever was hiding down there.

The first thing he saw when he got closer to the adjacent wall was a pair of feet, bound and dirty with toes digging into the hard floor.

This was a prisoner.

"God damn it," Harry groaned as he flicked his wand to shine light on the entire basement, nearly blinding himself and his partner in the process. "Get help. Now, Jordan," he commanded as he dropped to his knees in front of the prisoner who was wedged against the corner where the walls met. Jordan staggered back and sprinted away in shock.

Harry knew who this was the moment he recognized the man's twisted platinum hair and wide pale eyes. He felt a stab of pity and revulsion when he saw Malfoy curled up into a shivering ball with his tied hands pressed against his gagged mouth and tears streaming down his face. He was practically suffocating himself. His clothes were in tatters and blood caked over one ear from a wound on the side of his head. He had obviously been kept there for a while, judging by his scraggly beard and matted hair. His breathing had gotten louder and louder still until he was hyperventilating behind his palms.

"Stop. Please, stop. You're safe," Harry urged gently, attempting to pull Draco's hands away from his nose and mouth. The gag that was tied behind his back was spotted with blood as well. "Don't do that."

Draco sobbed heavily as he squeezed his eyes shut. He pressed his hands to his nose even harder, trying to muffle himself.

"You're hurting yourself."

Harry fell back in shock when Draco started screaming in horror.

His head tilted down and his chin tucked against his chest. His hands curled into fists by his knees as he shrieked behind his gag. Harry scrambled forward and tried to undo the rag from around Draco's mouth. His shaking hands kept slipping and he gritted his teeth in frustration. He saw bruises that wrapped around to the back Draco's neck. They were marks of strangulation. "Damn it," he exhaled in frustration and anger as he struggled with the knots. He gave up on his unsteady hands a few seconds later with another swear and reached behind him to grab the wand. He knew that he would hurt Draco if he tried to undo the knot with magic, but he needed to do this quick before the man ended up suffocating himself to death.

He pressed the wand to the knot and the cloth disintegrated into wispy threads, singeing skin as it fell. "I'm sorry," Harry whispered as Draco fell forward with a pained cry. "I'm sorry." Draco latched onto Harry's shirt and sagged tiredly, falling faint. His breath rattled out of him, hoarse and labored. Harry undid the bonds on his wrists as well, clicking his tongue in dismay when he saw the chaffed wounds.

Not a minute later, the medical team arrived on scene. When they first tried to Draco onto the stretcher, he woke up with a start and tried to push away from Harry weakly. After some coaxing, however, he calmed down long enough to listen to instructions. When he realized that he was going to the hospital, he immediately went back to grappling at Harry's shirt and hiding against him.

"I told you you're safe, didn't I?" Harry murmured as he tried to pry Draco's fingers off his shirt. "You don't have to be scared anymore. Let go of me for a second?"

"No…"

"They'll take care of you. I promise. You won't hurt anymore." He managed to get out of Draco's grip that was weakening. He quickly handed the prisoner off to the medical staff who tried to restrain the thrashing man onto the stretcher.

"No! No! NO!" Draco kept screaming. "HARRY! PLEASE! NO! HARRY!" The moment his feet were unbound, he started kicking feebly while straining against the hands that held him down. He was pleading with Harry, his head thrown to the side and his pained eyes trained on the Head Auror. "PLEASE! I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY, HARRY!"

"Sedate him, for heaven's sake!" Harry exclaimed. "Do something!"

Draco gagged on the potion that was fed to him. His struggles became frail and his voice fell away into incoherent whimpering. Harry watched him fighting to stay awake by the way his eyes fluttered and his legs kicked but, in the end, his weak body couldn't fend off the effects of the sedative. He dropped off into a dreamless state.

Harry pressed his hand to his mouth while calming himself down. That had been a bit too intense for his liking…


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Harry stood outside the hospital room, not paying too much attention to what the attending physician was telling him. Broken ribs, infected scrapes, malnutrition, head trauma, fractured fingers, and bruised spine, to name a few things that were wrong with Malfoy. The patient was in bed with bags of fluids, painkillers and antibiotics hooked up to his arms. He had been sleeping for three days now. The occasional moments of clarity consisted of confused speech.

"So you're saying he has brain injury," Harry finally said.

"Most likely, yes. That and emotional trauma combined could mean a long road of recovery ahead of him," the Mediwizard told Harry.

"When can we talk to him?"

"Hopefully sometime in the next twelve hours. I will give you a call when he is awake, Mr. Potter."

"You do that." Harry stifled a sigh. What on Earth had Malfoy been through?

He hadn't heard about Draco Malfoy since the war had ended. And now he shows up like this. He was being held prisoner by the Dark Army, but Harry couldn't figure out what for. The man knew nothing. He had already spilled all the information he had to the Ministry during his hearings. Due to his status as a minor, he had been released without major repercussions. Many people were not happy about that little loophole in the system. He had made a lot of enemies. But why, after so many years, did they find him and torture him? Theories were floating around about revenge and retribution. Harry could see an angle with that. The Dark Army was big on grudges. Draco was a traitor, so he was being punished; not unlike Voldemort's preaching. He just couldn't get the timeline right, that was all.

"What if… he worked _with_ the Dark Army?" Laurie suggested as she tapped the tip of her quill on her desk rhythmically. "What if they turned on him?"

"Could happen," Bernie agreed. His shrug was half-hearted however.

"Not your first guess though, right?" Harry murmured. "Not my first guess either. But it could happen. Explains why we haven't seen him in so long."

"I looked through some paper trails," Jordan said as he flipped through a set of his notes. "Nothing from Malfoy. Not since a year after the trials. He either found his way out of the country or he was living on his wages and not his inheritance."

"See, that's the thing," Harry tsked. "I can't see Malfoy living below his means. He likes the power and attention of a mansion and silk robes. He's not one to get his hands dirty."

"He had no choice, maybe. Desperate times."

"True," Harry sighed. "So frustrating."

"We're doing good, boss," Laurie exclaimed with a short laugh. "What are you so down for? We've been making arrests every turn we take! We're almost at full capacity in our holding cells as is. Speaking of which…" She chucked a crumpled piece of paper at Bernie. "Help me process these, you arse. You've been skirting me all day."

"Yeah, yeah," Bernie grumbled as he dragged himself back to his desk.

Harry stopped pacing when he heard a familiar trill at his desk. A grey note the size of his palm appeared on the corner of it just as he walked over. He snatched up the note and flicked his eyes over the message. Once. Then twice. It finally sunk in after the third read. "Oh my God," he breathed as he snapped his head up to look at his coworkers. "Malfoy's being targeted. He was just attacked in his room." He didn't wait for a response before running out of the office.

When he got to the hospital, the recovery ward was teeming with officers. He had to practically fight his way to get to the eye of the storm. The chatter was deafening. He flashed his badge to the attending enforcement wizard before walking into the hospital room.

There was broken glass on the floor where the window had been smashed. A few medical staff were scattered around one corner of the room while analysts did their best to pull fingerprints off the windowsill. Harry grabbed the first officer who passed by and asked her for the details.

"Nurses heard commotion in the room. No one noticed anything strange beforehand. They found Mr. Malfoy wounded on the floor and the window smashed. Seems the culprit got out that way."

"Down _four_ floors?" Harry hissed.

The officer shrugged her shoulders and then left the Head Auror to survey the scene on his own. He hesitantly walked over to where the Mediwizards and nurses stood, honing into their words. They seemed to be trying to gently persuade Draco into doing something. He could hear Draco's quiet voice as well. So he was talking now. That was good. He could further the investigation, maybe give them a description of his attacker.

Harry flinched away when he finally got close enough to see Malfoy. How much more was the man supposed to handle? He was sitting against the wall, cradling his right arm that had been severely burned. He just looked at each of the doctors' faces blankly despite hearing instructions to let them take care of him. If one of them reached out, he held his other hand out to stop them and mumbled, "No." It was a weak protest, but firm and resolute. He was bleeding from a cut above his eye too. He had been punched. This was a personal grudge, not a professional hit.

"He can't fight," Harry commented loudly, impatience seeping into his voice. The medical staff frowned up at him in reproach. "Well, don't ask him! He's obviously not in the right state of mind. Just do what you have to do," he said. "Now. He's my witness."

"Harry?"

He was startled by the submissive tone Draco was taking. In fact, he was thrown by it. "Y-yeah," he stammered. "What?"

Draco was staring up at him now and he wasn't blank anymore. His face was twisted up into a pained expression. "C-can I have my wand?" he asked brokenly. "Please? I need my wand. I didn't know wh-what to do." Tears slid down his cheeks and he squeezed his eyes shut, as though trying to stop them. Trying to pull in some dignity from somewhere. The Mediwizards took the distracted opportunity to gently move his burned arm that was bleeding and blistering. He didn't even notice. His voice had dropped off into a hoarse whisper. Harry had to kneel down beside him to hear. "I don't want this," he kept saying.

"I know," Harry interrupted his chant. "No one would. It's pain. No one wants it."

Draco bit his lip hard when his arm suddenly started sending waves of agony through him. He was trying to stifle his whimpers and Harry could see it. He was cracking. Everything in him was breaking.

"JUST CUT IT OFF," he started shrieking without warning. The room went silent in an instant. "I DON'T WANT IT! CUT IT OFF!" He slapped his hand to his mouth to muffle his screams that wouldn't stop.

"Sh, sh," Harry hushed him with a kind touch to his cheek. "Your arm is going to be fine." He glanced at the startled Mediwizards who were quick to nod. "See? Your doctors said so. Don't be scared. You've got to be very brave. I'm sorry you got hurt again. I'll try my hardest to not let it happen a third time, okay?"

Draco stared at Harry hypnotically as he listened to those soft words. A few minutes later, all that was left in him were a few sobs. He swallowed hard to get rid of his nausea. Then he let Harry move his hand down from his mouth. He closed his eyes when the Auror reached up to inspect the cut on his brow. It was marring his vision slightly. He felt Harry touch his forehead to brush aside strands of hair that had gotten into the wound. "We should take care of that too, huh?" he heard Harry murmur. So he answered, "Okay."

Harry was feeling a mess of emotions as he seized Draco up. This man was nothing like the Draco Malfoy he had learned to hate. This man could be anyone off the street. Harry paused for a second before getting his wand out of his pocket. "Here," he whispered, touching the wand to Draco's left hand. "Hold it for a bit."

Draco pulled away as though he had been caught with a hand in the cookie jar. His expression betrayed his bewilderment and all pain was forgotten for that moment. "What?" he asked in disbelief.

"It's fine," Harry urged. "Just for a minute."

"N-no," Draco stammered as he quickly realized what was happening. "M-my wand is i-in my house. I don't w-"

"You wanted a wand, didn't you?"

"N-not yours. I don't want yours."

"Are you sure?"

"Mhm."

"It's not every day that you get to hold onto Harry Potter's prized possession, you know?"

"I-I know. I know Harry Potter." His fingers had curled around Harry's wand by then. It looked like an involuntary response. He hadn't felt a wand in almost two months, after all. Harry knew what it felt like to be stripped of magic like that. "You saved me," Draco continued. "Right? You did, didn't you?"

"I found you, yes," Harry nodded. "You're looking much better already."

"Don't patronize me, Potter…"

Harry couldn't help smiling when he heard those uncertain words. He couldn't say he had missed it after all these years. He had nearly forgotten what Malfoy could sound like. "Wouldn't dare, Malfoy," he answered. He supposed Draco's confusion wasn't as severe as he had thought. He clearly seemed to remember their feuds.

Draco leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. "I don't know what's happening," he mumbled. "Nothing's happening." His grip around Harry's wand tightened, sending sputtering red sparks out the tip. "Just cut my arm off already. I don't want it. I hate it."

Harry was handed a small green vial. It was a sedative for Draco to put him under before surgery. "Drink this," he said as he brought the potion up to Draco's lips. "It'll make you sleep."

"Forever?" Draco whispered before parting his lips wide and letting Harry tip the contents into his mouth. He swallowed it without complaint, not even a wince. Then he let go of the wand, not once making a comment about it or looking down at it. He just seemed stronger after.

Harry easily flicked the wand into his hand and pocketed it. "Not forever," he said patiently.

"It hurts a lot."

"I'll see what we can do."

Draco was transported to the Ministry facilities as soon as he was ready. He was assured protection in there since it was a hospital for law enforcement officers. A guard was posted in front of his door at all times and he was treated as a key witness. Unfortunately, his treatment regiment was chock full that he was left with no time or energy for answering questions. He had psych evaluations, routine tests and physiotherapy to attend. His brain function was not optimal. Until he could be deemed mentally stable, any witness statement he gave could be dismissed by Wizengamot.

That didn't stop Harry from trying, of course.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

He entered Draco's room for the first time since the transfer, making it nearly a week since the incident with his burnt arm. Ministry hospital rooms were luxurious compared to St. Mungo's. It was larger, brighter and cleaner. It had a bed, a sofa, tables and chairs, and a window overlooking the training grounds. Harry found the patient sitting by that window, legs curled up on the couch and head downturned.

He cleared his throat to let his presence be known. He saw Draco start and a soft thud followed it, as though he had dropped something. Then he heard a sniffle followed by rustle of fabric.

"Um… Malfoy?" Harry faltered. He saw Draco trying to wipe his eyes discreetly. He approached the sofa, not quite sure what to expect.

Draco was fumbling to do up his shirt with his left hand while his bandaged right arm lay beside him uselessly. He had dropped a book on the ground when he had been startled. Now he was crying out of frustration.

Harry muttered indistinctly under his breath as he walked around to the front of the sofa and sat down beside Draco. He reached out and did up the buttons without saying a word. Draco was gasping sadly once the shirt was buttoned up. Harry sat back after, folding his hands on his lap. He didn't want to make things more uncomfortable than they already were.

"I-I can do it most days," Draco croaked.

Harry realized that Draco wasn't having one of his best moments. He wondered how much he could get out of this man's addled mind. He had already gotten his coworkers to cover for him for an hour. Might as well use it up. "How's your arm?" he asked.

"I don't know." Draco looked down at it. "It hurts."

"Do you know who did it?"

He shook his head.

"Would you be able to describe him to me?"

He shook his head again.

There was long, uninterrupted silence after that. Draco stared at his lap studiously. Harry watched the trainees out the window, seeing them run drills and practice on targets. His mind was wrapped up in his case, though. He couldn't rattle out any more confessions out of the criminals they had caught at the hidden headquarters. They were already in Azkaban, in any case. The Aurors had shut down many of the smaller businesses that ran as fronts for the Dark Army. They were in the process of planning for the larger busts now since those took a bit more time to set up with regards to back up and communication.

The kidnappers didn't really say much about Malfoy's imprisonment in their basement. He could sense immense animosity between them and their prisoner, but they didn't elaborate on what they had done to him. They kept saying they had wanted to get information out of a Death Eater and Malfoy was the easiest target out there, so he had been their best bet. Malfoy was the easiest target because he was the weakest. He had not support. He lived alone. He had lived under the same roof as the Dark Lord. And he was the easiest to break.

"I thought I was going to die."

Harry glanced at Draco. "I can imagine," he said.

Draco gulped and brought his hand up to his neck. "He would strangle me and I… I thought I'd die," he sniffed.

"Who?"

"I couldn't see," Draco shivered. "They would… they would blindfold me. They would hurt me. They would yell at me. They wanted to kill me. I should have died."

"Can you remember what they said to you? Did they ask you anything? Did you tell them anything that you think is important?"

"I don't know," he responded. He let out a suppressed sob. "I was scared. I didn't want to… I don't know."

"What did they ask you, Draco?"

"Th-they wanted to know a-about Mother and Father. I told them everything I knew. I told them about the Dark Lord. I don't know what more they wanted to know. I kept telling them and they kept hurting me. Th-they… He-" He gagged on his words and scrambled to his feet to rush to the bathroom. Harry got to him as he started dry heaving. There was nothing really in his stomach to throw up. Harry knew that it was just memories that were making him this way. He clutched Draco's hand tight, trying to persuade the man that he was truly safe now.

"Harry," he croaked.

"Yeah. I'm right here."

"I-I want to go outside," he mumbled. "I can't stand it. This place. I can't-"

"I'll take to your doctors," Harry assured him. "Maybe some sun will do you good."

"Don't. Don't do that."

"Don't do what?" the Auror asked absently as he conjured up a wet cloth. He handed it to Draco and indicated for him to wipe the sweat off his face. "Don't talk to your doctors?"

"Don't pretend," Draco said. He pressed the cold rag against his forehead. "Don't pretend to like me. It's not helping me."

"I'm not pretending to like you. I'm trying to help you. It's sympathy."

"I don't need pity."

"You look like you do."

Draco took in a ragged breath while shaking his head in a fierce manner. "Leave. Just… leave."

"Tell me what _you_ want to do, Malfoy," Harry said deliberately. "What do you want to do now?"

"I don't know!" Draco blurted out. He raised his bloodshot eyes to meet Harry's. "I don't know what to do. I-I've tried crying and screaming and sleeping. I don't know anymore! What should I do? What do I have to do now?" The words tumbled out of him faster and faster. "You won't let me die. You won't let me have my wand. You won't let me out of here. I hate it! I HATE IT!"

"Trust me," Harry interrupted. "Can you do that? I need you to trust me. I need to you be comfortable enough to talk with me. If it's not me, then your counselor. I need you to trust _somebody_. I need you to talk, Draco. Not cry or scream or sleep. Just talk." He reached out to squeeze Draco's shoulder. "When you're ready, tell me."

"I won't ever be ready…"

"Well, I do have another forty-five minutes to kill…"

Draco managed a bitter smile that quickly turned into a tight, contorted grimace as he tried to hold in his tears. "I _do_ trust you," he confessed. "Y-you're the only person I can trust… I'm trying. I really am."

"Okay. That's okay." Harry nudged Draco's chin up. "You'll be okay now." He didn't let go until Draco had nodded. "Is your stomach settled now?" he asked.

"I think so."

"Then let's go back out. Your hand's bleeding."

Draco inhaled sharply and looked down. Sure enough, spots of red were showing up on his bandaged arm. He let Harry lead him to bed. He didn't say a word as he sat down on the edge of it and watched Harry move to the small medicine cabinet by the front door to rummage through it for ointments. Harry soon found what he was looking for and he walked over to Draco. "Let me see," he said.

"Y-you can call the nurse," Draco mumbled.

"It's fine. I've done this before," Harry assured him. "Let me see?"

Draco hesitated. So Harry took his arm by the elbow and held it up. He unwound the sticky bandage, flicking his eyes up when he heard a soft hiss. Draco had his head turned away and his jaw was clenched tight enough to show the veins on his pale neck. Harry slowed his movements so as not to scare him. He needed to work on helping Draco. "You want to hear something?" he asked.

"Yeah," Draco exhaled. "Anything."

Harry was glad that Draco was looking away because he couldn't help cringing when he saw the raw wound that had been hidden away. Almost all the skin had been burned off and he wondered how Draco was still sane because the burn looked painful as hell. "Did you know you have a cousin?" he asked before gently blowing on the irritated wound to cool it.

Draco suddenly reached out and dug his fingers into Harry's knee while holding back a choked cry.

"His name's Teddy," Harry went on to say quickly to try and distract from the pain. "Such a great kid." He applied some ointment on a soft cloth and started dabbing at the open cuts to close them up. "He's my godson. His parents passed away in the war. His father's Remus Lupin. Mother's Nymphadora Tonks, your aunt's daughter."

"It hurts," Draco whimpered, cutting Harry off.

"How bad?"

Draco just shook his head.

Harry blew cold air onto the exposed palm again. "He went through a phase this one year," he recalled. "He decided to make me breakfast. Sweet, right?"

"Hmm."

"Not really." Harry dabbed a bit of dittany onto the worst areas, "Teddy burns all the bread, scrambles the eggs with the shell, and dumps sugar in the orange juice. I had no choice but to eat it so he wouldn't feel bad."

"You would, Potter…"

"It's a curse, Malfoy. I'm just too nice." He rolled out fresh gauze and medicated bandages. "Then he waits to be praised. He won't leave my bedroom until I tell him what a good job he's done. It's sweet about an hour afterwards. It's torture until then."

"He sounds great." Draco let out a steady stream of air. He was much calmer as Harry started piecing his dressing together. "Does he stay with you now?"

"Hogwarts."

"I see…"

Harry finished up with Draco's hand and lowered it onto the bed gently. Draco let go of Harry's knee then. His demeanor was passive and, by his expression, his thoughts seemed to be overwhelming him. Harry got up to go to the bathroom and wash his hands.

"Wait."

He turned around and tilted his head at Draco.

"Lupin was… He was a werewolf," Draco remembered.

"Teddy's fine," Harry answered with a promising smile. "He's not infected."

Draco looked away quickly but his disgusted shudder didn't go unnoticed. Harry didn't call him out on it. He figured it wasn't worth it. He simply washed his hands of the balms and blood in warm water while letting his mind race as it often did when he was alone. He couldn't hear any movement in the other room, so Draco was still seated. He wiped his hands on his trousers as he walked out. "So," he sighed. "Ready to talk?"

Draco kept staring out the window instead of acknowledging the question.

Harry scuffed the floor with his shoe for a moment before moving to sit back on the bed beside Draco. "What did they want with you, Malfoy?" he asked. "What would you have to offer them? Information, right?"

"Hmm."

"Do you realize that everything you've said to me has been vague? You haven't really given me anything to work with. What kinds of things did you tell them about your parents? What kind of things did you tell them about the Death Eaters? Information on Riddle's plans? His war rooms? His favorite pizza joint? What?"

"Stop it!" Draco exploded. "What's _wrong_ with you?"

"I'm stuck against a brick wall, Malfoy," Harry retorted. "You need to help us. Please."

"Then don't _talk_ to me like that," Draco snarled. "Don't-" He broke off abruptly, catching himself before he started shouting again. "Just don't, okay? I'm trying."

"Something. Anything specific that you can remember."

Draco rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I-I don't know," he murmured. "They… They wanted to know names, I guess. I told them all the names I'd heard when… he was at my home. People he had killed and tortured. Um…" He paused to swallow hard. "I-I can give you those names. B-but you probably already have them from the confession I-"

"That's okay," Harry assured him. "Tell me all the names you remember. Maybe you forgot a few in your statement all those years ago. It's a lead. Anything you can give us is a lead."

They spent the next half-hour going through names and places. Harry took notes furiously while Draco rattled on. He didn't stop once he got started. Sometimes he would get sidetracked and start recounting the moments when he was made to starve or when they stepped on his hands just to hear him scream. Harry always managed to steer conversation back on track though. They talked about sounds that Draco had heard when he was blindfolded and unusual scents he had smelt. There was no doubt in Harry's mind from his testimony that the occupants of the house had been brewing illegal substances even though no evidence was found. They almost never spoke of plans when they were around Draco, so Harry didn't get much out of him there. But what he had was enough for now.

Draco seemed reluctant to let Harry go when their hour was up. "Is that all you needed?" he kept asking. "I-I can try and think up more."

"You're being incredibly cooperative," Harry commended him. "To tell you the truth, I wasn't expecting it from you."

Draco stood by the door, leaning against the wall and keeping his head down as he picked at his bandaged fingers. It reminded Harry of Teddy's sulking sessions.

"I'll be back," he said. "I'll come by tomorrow, okay? We'll talk more then."

"I won't talk to anyone else," Draco said. He stubbornly shook his head to drive his point home. "I want to speak with you."

"I've got no complaints," Harry responded in kind. "Maybe I'll bring you some lunch tomorrow. What do you want?"

"Anything."

"Alright. Bye."

"Mhm."


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3  
**

Harry closed the door behind him quietly and nodded once at the guard posted outside. He made to walk away, but then stopped to turn to the guard once more. "So someone will be guarding him day and night?" he wanted to know.

"Yes, sir," the officer confirmed. "Rotating shifts."

"Door's never left alone, right?"

"No, sir."

"Good. Thank you." He slid his hands into his pockets and walked down the empty corridor, looking to his right and left every few seconds as though to locate rooms and orient himself. The building was, indeed, very secure. It would take a very smart hit man to try anything in there.

The four senior Aurors looked up when their boss entered their cramped office in the midst of their lunch break. Laurie and Jordan were in front of the whiteboard, brainstorming tactics. Bernie was still knee-deep in paperwork and damned near close enough to pull his hair our. Marty had his feet up on the desk, shooting the breeze as always.

Harry closed the door with his foot and threw a couple spells on it to lock it as well as to stop prying ears. "Listen up," he announced into the room as he walked over to his desk and dropped his notepad and badge onto it. "Went to visit Malfoy."

"Yeah," Bernie mumbled distantly. "Poor prick. Can't catch a break."

"Hmm," Harry shrugged. "Oh! And, Laurie?"

"Yes?"

"Got anything on him? Address? Job?"

"Got a flat under his name," she reported after checking her notes. "Address is 3A Nightingale Terrace. Tadworth. No noise, though. He pays rent on time, hasn't gotten into trouble with the law. Very clean."

Harry tapped his fingers on his desk as he thought through his next plan of action. "Try to see if he has been interacting with any suspicious characters, will you? I want to know who lives around that area, if anyone had moved in recently, his reputation, and, most importantly, where he works. We'll go from there."

"Anything in particular I'm looking for?" she asked.

"Anything that doesn't sit right with you."

"Sounds good."

"Marty."

"Yup?"

"Let's go," Harry said. "I want to check out Malfoy's place. Quite a downgrade from his mansion."

"I'd say," Marty yawned. "Right behind you, boss."

* * *

Nightingale Terrace was an establishment over forty years old – a four-storey apartment building with worn linoleum on the floor of the lounge and peeling white paint that revealed the teal underneath. They didn't need to be buzzed in. The stairs seemed fair game for anyone to use. Harry scanned the place for surveillance. Nothing. It was a Muggle place.

The stairwell was lightly graffitied, nothing out of the ordinary with cheap flats inhabited by college students. It smelt of urine. Again, not out of the ordinary. Each floor had six rooms, three of each facing wall. Apartment 3A faced out into the street and it was right next to the stairs. They had managed to get a key from the apartment manager.

The first thing Harry and Marty noticed when they entered the flat was the cold, as though windows had been left open. The narrow foyer revealed nothing and it led into the kitchen. There was nothing telling in there. It was clean and minimal. Draco didn't use the Muggle appliances, from the looks of it. There was no dining room. The kitchen opened up into a living room.

Marty walked up to the slightly messy bookshelf while Harry went to the open window to peer out into the road. It was such a quiet neighborhood. There was almost no magical interference. Marty had to flick his wand at the bookcase to take down its weak camouflaging property that made it seem as though all the books were Muggle-based. Once the charm was off, he could read the spines better. All of them were wizarding. Some from school, some second-hand. Not all of them were educational. There were a few loosely bound fictional novels as well. Some random decorating coffee table additions. Nothing out of the ordinary.

They went into the bedroom next. There was a narrow twin in there, covered in a grey duvet. Neatly tucked. Window was open in there as well. The soft white curtains flapped in the breeze. On the bedside table were more books. "Guess he had no other way of keeping himself entertained," Marty noted as he gestured at those. "Looks like all he does was read."

Harry peeked into the closet as well. He was surprised to find quite a few Muggle clothes in there. "Do you think he worked with the Muggles?" he asked Marty. "Living in a place like this, I mean."

"He didn't say?"

"He can't even remember his own address."

Marty wandered into the bathroom. It was clean in there too. No medication vials or potions. "Pretty ordinary place," he called out to his boss as he finished checking the medicine cabinet. "Alright in there?"

"Not really…"

He found Harry in the bedroom still, but this time kneeling by the bed and lifting sheets to look underneath. "What's wrong?" he asked. He got on his knees to look. His brow arched when he saw a few empty bottles of alcohol under there. "I see…"

Harry sat back while rubbing his chin in thought. "That's not the strange part," he murmured. He stood up and surveyed the room once again. "Where's all his _stuff_?"

"What stuff?" Marty asked as he reached out to grab a few bottles.

"His stuff. This can't be it. He used to be a rich kid," Harry thought aloud. "He should have _way_ more stuff."

"Maybe it's in storage? He can't fit everything in here."

"Yeah. Maybe. Look for keys, will you?" He opened the drawer to the bedside table. Malfoy's wand rolled forward. He picked it up as his puzzlement doubled. He remembered it a little too well. He felt its worn handle, remembering that day. It seemed to remember him as well. A warm tingle was spreading through his arm. He quickly pocketed the wand and shook his hand to get rid of the magic. "Why would he leave his wand behind?"

"He did?" Marty asked in surprise.

"Yeah. Just found it." Harry went to the front door again to inspect the jamb and the handle. "No signs of breaking and entering. There wasn't a struggle. He left this place without a wand. He wasn't kidnapped in here."

They wrapped up the search after finding a few more bottles of whiskey and vodka in the kitchen cabinets. No keys, though. "Maybe he's keeping them in a wizard facility," Marty suggested.

"I doubt anyone around here would let a Malfoy keep a storage unit," Harry disagreed. "No. He has to be using a Muggle place. We just need to know which one."

They tried a few flats near Draco's. They spoke to some of the tenants. No one had much to say. Yes, they had seen the man who lived there. No, they had no idea who he was or where he worked. No, they hadn't seen anything suspicious. No, the man never seemed to have any visitors. Yes, he was quiet and kept to himself.

The next day, as promised, Harry showed up at the hospital.

Draco talked much more eagerly then. They sat on the bed like last time. Instead of clawing at Harry's knee, Draco had his arms crossed against his chest. He talked about his first day in the basement. It was one of the only days he could clearly remember.

"They were pretty civilized. I even had a chair to sit on." He scoffed. "Probably only for a few days, though. Then they got tired of me sitting too comfortably and took away the chair. And, for some reason, they didn't use magic on me. Just fists and shoes." He twisted his shirt in his hand angrily. "I wish they'd just used magic instead."

"Magic hurts a lot more," Harry told him.

"But it's not messy," Draco countered. "At least they cleaned up after me. Never let me wallow in my filth." His face twisted into a loathsome mask. "Always cleaned me up."

"What did they ask?"

"They didn't know _what_ to ask. They had so many questions. They were nothing more than foot soldiers. I guess getting their hands on a Death Eater was their dream come true. I didn't tell them anything the first few days. Then… When it got worse, I… I just… I wasn't strong enough t-to keep-" He cleared his throat and broke off after pushing away the rest of that thought. "I don't remember when I hit my head. I think that one big man got a bit too rough, slammed my head against the floor. I don't know. I remember waking up. I thought I had gone blind."

"Blind?"

"Usually they left the lights on. After that day, they kept it off." Draco shuddered. "I hated it. It took me so long to convince myself that I wasn't blind. They didn't come down. Maybe they thought I had died. Maybe they were just going to leave me in the basement to rot. Sick bastards."

"Do you want to take a minute?"

He shook his head stubbornly. "They would break my fingers. I never knew how many of them were down there at a time. They would just take my hand and break my fingers like it was nothing. They would kick me until I threw up. Sometimes they would heal me just so they could break me again. After a while, it was like a game for them. When they were bored, they'd come down and mess with me. After a while, they didn't even have questions for me. I couldn't give them anything. Maybe that was when he cracked my head open… I can't remember." He touched the faint scar of the side of his head. "I remember pain. A lot of pain."

"They're going to be put away to Azkaban for a long time for what they did to you," Harry assured him.

"I'd rather have them dead," Draco muttered under his breath.

"Death is too easy."

He looked up sharply and his eyes darted over Harry's expressionless face. "I… It…" he hesitated. "Y-yeah. Too easy."

"They won't be having an easy time in prison. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Let's eat?"

"Okay."

As they tucked into lunch, Harry noticed the furtive glances that Draco was shooting at him. He pretended not to see them. Draco was probably confused or simply curious as to why the Head Auror was spending so much time in the quiet room. Harry figured that Draco had gotten used to eating alone. He watched the man fumble with his fork in his left hand as he tried to spear the vegetables. He seemed afraid to use his right arm for anything. Perhaps the slightest movement caused immense pain. "What did the doctors say about your arm?" Harry asked.

Draco shrugged. "I can't remember. Something… I don't know."

"Did they say it was going to be fully healed?"

"No. Not fully. Somewhat."

Harry pushed the rice around with his spoon. "Remember when I broke my arm in Second Year? Playing Quidditch?" he murmured.

"Hmm," Draco acknowledged distantly.

"It hurt like a bitch. Lockhart made all the bones disappear. Bloody arse. 'It happens sometimes,' he said. 'Toddle up to the hospital wing,' he said. _Toddle_."

Draco covered his snicker with a polite cough.

"Couldn't use my arm for nearly a week. And I thought _that_ was rough."

"It turned out fine, though…"

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "You'll turn out fine too."

Draco was tempted to say that their situations weren't similar _at all_, but he held his tongue. Why antagonize the one influential person who was vouching for him? He ate his food in silence, quietly glad that he didn't have to taste hospital gruel for the first time in a fortnight.

"Gilderoy Lockhart," Harry huffed. "Third class Order of Merlin. First class git. Do you know what happened to him?"

"He's gone mental, hasn't he?"

"But do you know what _happened_ to him?"

Draco tilted his head at Harry in puzzlement.

Harry titled his head as well with a meaningful look.

"Wait…" Draco frowned. "_You_ had something to do with it?"

"He tried to use Ron's wand against us. Except Ron's wand was a piece of work and his spell backfired on him. Fried his brain. Now he has no memories."

"Well, fuck…"

"I know."

"Potter."

"What?" Harry exclaimed while holding his hands up in surrender. "We were twelve! He tried to hex us! Serves him right. He was a right prick, he was."

Draco didn't try to hide his amusement now. He laughed into his food while shaking his head. Somehow, he was surprised that Potter would show this much callousness. He had thought that the Boy-Who-Lived would show a bit more finesse now that he was all grown up and one of the most important people in the world. Then again, here he was sitting in a hospital room with an ex-Death Eater. Anything was fair game with Potter.

They met everyday for the next week. Sometimes they talked about the basement, sometimes not. Sometimes Draco cried, sometimes not. And Harry brought lunch that they shared, sometimes on the bed and sometimes at the table. Eventually Draco started looking forward to his lunch hour. Harry never looked at him with too much pity. Most times, he just seemed blank, as though he was trying to judge Draco's character for himself instead of letting his prejudices and memories make that decision for him. Sometimes he let slip some of his emotions that betrayed his disappointment in Draco's bigoted thoughts. But they were both used to being judged, in any case.

"I won't be able to visit you for a couple days," Harry told him one afternoon. "I'll be away from home."

"For work?" Draco asked.

"Yes. It's always for work."

"Couple days?"

"I might be longer if it takes longer…"

Draco thought about it for a minute and then shrugged. "Okay. I'll see you later, then," he said.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "And _please_ listen to your doctors. They keep complaining to me."

"To hell with them."

"Why don't you say that to their faces?"

Draco pursed his lips in discontent without bothering with an answer. Harry rolled his eyes.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4  
**

His trip did take longer than two days. He didn't get back home until five days later, feeling grouchy and tired. He didn't visit Draco until the sixth day.

Before he was allowed to enter the room, however, the guard stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Um, sir?" he faltered.

"Yes?" Harry asked.

"He's been having a few rough nights. Just thought you might want to know."

Harry stepped back with a frown. "What do you mean? He's had loads of rough nights, right?"

"Not like this. Doctor's been in and out of here every few hours, checking up on him."

Harry mulled it over for a few seconds before nodding. "Thanks, mate," he said as he opened the door and walked in.

The atmosphere in there was troubling. He noticed it as soon as he had closed the door behind him. There was something tense. Something unsettling?

Draco was sitting on the sofa again. He was being very quiet. He also didn't seem to have heard the door. His head wasn't tilted down like last time. He was staring straight ahead out the window.

Harry walked up a few steps, then stopped. He set the white plastic bag down on the bed before continuing. Draco didn't even acknowledge him when he stood beside the sofa. So he cleared his throat. "Malfoy?"

Draco started violently and whipped his head to the side, his eyes wide with fright. Then recognition flickered in them.

Harry barely had time to take a few steps back with the speed in which Draco moved. He was knocked back against the wall as arms wound around his neck. Draco pressed up close to him, hiding his face against his shoulder. Harry took a moment to catch his lost breath before raising his hands to hold Draco by the waist. They stood there in a tight embrace. Draco kept tensing his arms at intervals of time, like he was hesitating or disoriented and didn't know if he should hold on or let go.

"What's wrong? What happened?"

"I-I don't know." Draco started trembling.

"You knew I'd come back, right?"

"I knew. I know."

"And you haven't even seen what I've brought you yet," Harry murmured. He pulled out the wand that was stowed in his pocket and he held it against Draco's hand.

Draco inhaled sharply and picked his head up to look. "M-my wand?" he cracked.

"Mhm."

His fingers shook as he took the wand from Harry. Even though it was held in his left hand, it was enough. He laid his head down on Harry's shoulder again while keeping his eyes on the wand.

"Found it at your place. It took me a bit of time to convince the doctors to let you hold it," Harry said. He felt Draco shift to once again hide against him. "But you can't have it in the room with you when I'm not around, okay? I have to take it with me when I go," he added so Draco wouldn't get his hopes up too much. "I'll bring it back when you visit you." He got no response. He reached up and patted Draco's back. "Hey? What's the matter?"

Draco shook his head and tightened his grip on Harry.

"You know, you aren't winning any favors by hugging me."

"Shut up, Potter."

Harry gave Draco a quick squeeze before letting go. Draco stepped back after recognizing that gesture. He kept his eyes on his socked feet while Harry tried to see the expression on his downturned face. "Were you scared?" he asked. "Because you sure scared me."

"Go away."

"I can't until you give me that wand back."

Draco threw the wand at Harry's legs before turning on his heel and stomping off to the sofa. Harry couldn't help smiling as he picked it up off the floor. "Leave the food, though," he heard Draco add. He rolled his eyes.

Draco glanced to the side when he heard rustling of plastic. Harry sat beside him and said, "I brought you some books." He took them out of the bag and placed them beside Draco.

Draco seemed tempted to ignore it, but curiosity got the better of him. He reached out to grab the first one, his brow rising when he read the familiar cover. He must have recognized it as something from his bookshelf. Harry had brought those books from the apartment. "Whatever, Potter," he retorted. "I don't need you. You may go."

Harry reached into the bag again instead and pulled out the warm boxes of food. He divvied up the cutlery and napkins before holding one of the containers out to Draco. "I hope you don't mind chicken."

"It won't win you any favors," Draco muttered as he took it from Harry's hands.

* * *

Harry kicked past the rubble on the ground after having surveyed the damage in the abandoned warehouse. The argument in there had led to five casualties – followers of the Dark Lord. There was little sympathy for them, of course. It was just a mystery. At least three would succumb to their injuries en route to surgery. The other two had varying degrees of damage, including severe lacerations and effects of dark magic.

And that was the third case in the past two weeks that had ended this way.

"What the hell is going on?" Harry growled in frustration. Dead suspects meant no information. "Damn it." He stalked towards the rest of his team who were trying to salvage as much of the documents as they could from under the cement debris and water damage. "Surveillance caught _nothing_?" he snapped.

"Apparently not," Laurie scowled. "Bloody amateurs."

"How do you miss a fuck-up _this_ huge?" Marty huffed. This had been one of their bigger operations. This warehouse was where half of all the shipments of armor for the Dark Army landed monthly. The next drop was set to be in a matter of three days and now _this_ happened. "It looks like an inside job, in any case," he noted. "Someone deserted or maybe they started the fight amongst themselves. Happens. Someone's not happy with their part of the deal, goes mental. Only a matter of time before things got out of hand."

"I just wish they'd held off until Saturday," Harry sighed. "What a fucking waste of our time."

"One of the men kept screaming about a Dark Mark," Bernie shrugged. "Could be a lead."

"Yeah, I heard him," Harry muttered. "Kind of hard _not_ to hear his wailing. We'll look into it. We've got more than enough suspects."

The next day, Draco could tell that Harry was preoccupied. He hadn't shown up in the afternoon, instead walking into the room after dinnertime. They hadn't exchanged any words, not even pleasantries. Harry just sat on the couch moodily while ignoring Draco's meaningful looks. There was only so much he could take. "What's _wrong_?" he asked from the umpteenth time.

Harry let out a loud gush of air and turned to scowl at Draco. "Be honest with me," he prefaced his question. "Did any of the Death Eaters approach you after you were acquitted?"

Draco blinked at Harry. "No," he answered.

"Malfoy."

"No."

"I said be honest."

Draco stared at Harry for a beat before quickly flicking his eyes away. "What does it matter?" he mumbled.

"Tell me who it was."

"No."

"People are dying," Harry exclaimed. Sure, he was sensationalizing that. He didn't much care for the people who _were_ dying since all of them seemed to be part of the Dark Army. But he needed to wheedle this information out of Malfoy. "One name."

Draco shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Is this an interrogation?"

"What did they want? Did they want you to join them?"

"No. They'd never," Draco murmured. "I'm not part of the Dark Army anymore. Not out of my free will."

Harry knew this to be true by the hard expression on Draco's face. "Someone from the Dark Army caused quite a scene in one of the warehouses I was supposed to bust in Cardiff. One of the men kept talking about a Dark Mark. Why would a Death Eater turn on his men when they seemed to be doing the job just fine?"

"Look," Draco blurted out angrily. "I don't know, okay? How would I know this? I've been in this bloody hospital for nearly a month. What do you want me to say?"

Harry didn't answer. He waited for a few minutes for Draco to cool off instead. Draco picked at his bandage in frustration, his scowl ever-present on his brow and his lips downturned in displeasure. He obviously didn't like being grilled. It made him much too defensive. Harry figured he should ease into more questions instead of shooting them at the man. "Have you heard from your uncles?" he asked quietly.

"Why would I?"

"They're your family, right?"

Draco muttered indistinctly under his breath.

"Pardon?"

"I said don't talk to me about family," Draco snapped.

"Oh… I see." Harry twirled his wand between his fingers. He didn't try to hide the way he was staring at Draco. He wanted it to be obvious that he was trying to read the young man. Draco clenched his teeth and kept his eyes on his hands. They were both equally capable of keeping up with silent treatments. They were well versed in it.

But Harry had no intention of letting such a petty contest get in the way. "You are about to be discharged," he announced.

Draco inhaled sharply and whipped his eyes up at Harry.

"Are you scared?" the Auror asked carefully.

There was a long pause after. But Draco followed that up with a clipped, "No." He looked away as well.

"They will hurt you if they find you."

His lips pursed into a thin, white line.

"But, if you give me more information, I could get you into a safehouse."

"Get out," he snarled even as he trembled in what could only be read as terror. He staggered to his feet and backed up into the window. "GET OUT!"

"Why?" Harry asked. He got up nonetheless. "Did I say something wrong?"

"I already told you everything!" Draco cried. "Why won't you believe me? Why are you sending me back? They'll kill me!"

"But what do you want?"

Draco slid to the floor into an undignified heap. "I don't know," he whimpered. "I w-want to stay with you. I don't have anyone. I want to s-stay here with you." He kept his eyes squeezed shut and the words kept tumbling out of his mouth. "Don't send me back. Please. I can't go back out there. I'll die. They'll kill me. I don't want to hurt anymore. Please!"

He jerked away when he felt a soft touch against his shoulder. He fluttered his eyes open to find Harry kneeling beside him. "What are you doing, Draco?"

A low groan escaped him when he opened his mouth. He wrapped his arm around Harry and hugged him tight. "I love you," he sobbed. "Please. I love you. Don't leave me."

Harry slowly rubbed circles on Draco's back. "I wasn't going to leave you," he murmured. "Why would you think that?" He sighed when he felt Draco shudder against him. "Will you stop crying now, Draco? For me?"

"Mhm," Draco hastened to mumble, quickly sniffing and starting to pull himself together. "For you."

Once they were seated more comfortably on the ground, Harry pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Draco who attempted to dry himself off. "You love me?" Harry asked.

Draco shook his head in defiance.

"I've talked with the doctors," Harry continued. "You don't let anyone else near you. You won't touch anyone else. Why?"

Draco shook his head again.

"Do you trust me that much?"

He didn't answer the question.

Harry reached out press his hand on the side of Draco's face. At first, the patient flinched back with guarded eyes. Then he flicked his gaze up to Harry. They held each other's attentions for that moment. Draco leaned into Harry's touch, letting his eyes falls shut and his breath rattle out of him shakily. Harry strengthened his caress, using his thumb to brush against Draco's high cheekbone. Draco flinched again but he didn't move away. He held very still instead.

"This kind of love?" Harry asked. He was unable to keep disbelief out of his tone.

Draco leaned in blindly and found Harry's lips. He kissed twice before pulling back. His hand enclosed Harry's wrist and held it steady against his cheek. "A-any kind of love," he breathed. "Okay? Anything you want."

"It's just gratitude," Harry tried to explain. His words were wavering too, however. "Not love. Relief and gratitude."

Draco rested his head against Harry's shoulder while sniffling quietly. "Y-you… You're the only one who can't keep secrets or… or hide things. I'm sick of people who pretend. You've always been good a-and kind and fair, even in school. You are who you say you are. It's why I trust you. Only you, Harry," he divulged. "S-so it's love for me. Any kind of love. I-I… I know you won't hurt me like they hurt me."

Harry winced as he shifted closer. "Like they hurt you?" he echoed.

"Mhm."

"Like they…"

Draco's breath hitched.

"Damn it, Draco…"

"Please, Harry? J-just hold me like this. That's enough."

Harry tightened his grip on Draco, binding them together. "How do you expect me to let you go home like this?" he muttered.

"Don't make me go home. Please, don't. I c-can't. I'm scared. I'm so scared."

"I know. I know… It's okay. You'll be okay. I promise you."

They sat huddled that way for a long while. Draco started relaxing into Harry's arms without prompt, nearly melting into the warmth. Harry held him steady with soft words and a strong grip. "You're good at this," Draco mumbled.

"Teddy has a lot of nightmares."

"Then he must be missing you at Hogwarts."

"Mhm."

Draco curled in some more and started picking at the white gauze on his arm. "I… I'd miss you too," he whispered. "No one's been this compassionate towards me in so long… I'd miss you."

Harry breathed in deeply and let it out in slow spurts. Then he made Draco tip his head up. "Do you trust me?" he asked.

"Yes," Draco mouthed.

Harry slid his lips against Draco's, catching him off-guard. He nearly pushed back but quickly restrained himself. Harry seemed to bit back a dismayed groan when he felt Draco surrender. They slid to the ground, Harry hovering over Draco while their breaths ran into each other. Their lips met halfway and their fingers tangled into each other's hair. Draco kept begging into their kiss. He also felt Harry trying to resist. He shook his head stubbornly whenever he felt the resistance grow stronger. "I need you," he gasped out. "Harry… I love you."

"You hate me," Harry exhaled as he gently tugged Draco up and onto his feet.

"I could never hate you," Draco promised. "Never."


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5  
**

They sank into bed, breathing fast and heavy as their hearts betrayed them. Harry slid his hands over Draco's shirt, bunching it and opening his eyes when he heard a soft moan escape the man beneath. "Draco?"

"Keep going," Draco exhaled. "Please, just... It's fine."

Harry kept a watch on Draco's expression as he started undoing the man's shirt. Draco had his eyes squeezed shut while his left hand clutched at the Auror's hair. Harry bent down to ghost his lips over Draco's collarbone that he had exposed, waiting. Draco moved his legs, parting them to pull Harry closer still. He planted his socked feet on the bed and squeezed his knees against Harry's hips, holding him in place.

"Really?" Harry mumbled.

"Mhm."

"You are under arrest."

Draco fluttered his eyes open. "What?" he asked.

His disorientation turned into confusion when his arms were pulled up above him and tied by invisible bonds. Harry was leaning over him, his eyes hard and his jaw clenched. "Do you want to know on what charge, Malfoy?"

"What are you doing?" Draco asked carefully.

"You're slipping."

He made a feeble attempt at undoing his restraint, each tug growing stronger and stronger until it became apparent that nothing could dislodge it. "Harry, please," he said shakily. "I don't like this."

"Why?"

"You _fucking_ know why!" he blurted out. "Let me go!"

"No."

"What's _wrong_ with you? Please. I don't like to be tied up. Don't do this."

"Is this what they did to you?"

He let out a frantic scream as he fought to get his hands free. He was kicking his legs too, but Harry made short work of them by pinning his legs to the bed by his knees. That just intensified Draco's bellowing.

"Want me to gag you too?" Harry growled.

"No! No, no, no, please," Draco begged. "Harry, please! Why are you doing this? I don't know what you want," he cried. "What do you want? I don't know what you want. I'm sorry!"

"Well…" Harry slid off of Draco and rolled out of bed, but not before binding the man's feet together as well and throwing a silencing charm at him. "You think about what you want to say to me, then." He flicked the lights off with his wand as he walked to the door. "Night."

He shut the door quietly while straightening his shirt. The guard posted outside nodded cordially. "He fell asleep," Harry said with an easy smile. "I'll be back in the morning. He shouldn't need anything." The guard nodded again. Then Harry made his way down the corridor while stretching his arms above him.

A few minutes later, he was in a cozy little parlor, shaking off soot from his hair. He was greeted by the sounds of racing footsteps.

"Uncle Harry!" Teddy squealed as he launched himself at his godfather. "I missed you so, so, so, so, so, so-"

"I know," Harry groaned as he caught the little projectile. He hugged the boy close. "I missed you so, so, so, so much too."

"Good thing I was awake, huh?" Teddy beamed while puffing out his chest.

"Like that's something to be proud of. It's an hour past your bedtime."

"Oh, you knew he'd be up," Andy quipped from the doorway. "He's always up an hour past his bedtime."

"Are you having a sleepover?" Teddy asked with his eyes wide open and shining. He was obviously hoping for the right answer.

"Of course!" Harry replied.

* * *

Draco awoke to the sound of soft footsteps. He forced his eyes open as the ache in his body started to make itself known. The first thing he saw was Potter standing by the bed, arms folded against his chest and staring down at him blankly. "Well?"

"Where's Harry?" Draco croaked. His voice had been freed while he was asleep, but not his arms and legs. His eyes fell shut against the sunlight. "I want to see Harry."

"Let's try this again, Malfoy," Harry murmured. He stepped in and grabbed Draco by the hair, yanking him up. He couldn't do anything but follow the pull with a pained cry. "No more games."

"D-don't hurt me," Draco sobbed. "Please. I'm sorry. I d-don't know wh-what you want."

"Enough!" Harry snarled, his palm striking Draco's cheek with a harm smack. "Enough, Malfoy. I've had enough."

"OF WHAT?" Draco shrieked. "STOP HURTING ME!"

Harry slammed him back onto the bed and flicked his wand out. "You are _seriously_ tempting me," he warned his prisoner. "You have _no_ idea how badly I want to get inside your head right now. _Compassion_? All I've wanted to do for the past two months is break you. But it's like a _fucking_ fortress in there, isn't it? Nothing can get in your head. Except… maybe pain." He pressed the tip of the want to Draco's temple. "Ever felt it?"

Draco started screaming in agony. He writhed in bed but he couldn't move his head away. It was as though the magic was binding him to the wand. He thrashed violently for just a few seconds before Harry repealed the curse. Then he laid whimpering and panting with sweat dripping from his neck and soaking into his hair.

"That's for messing with me, Draco. Disgusting."

"Please… D-don't do this."

"For _fuck's_ sake!" He grabbed Draco's bandaged arm and squeezed hard, eliciting another choked scream. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT I CANNOT LEGALLY ARREST YOU?" the Auror shouted. "DO YOU REALIZE HOW _FUCKING_ FRUSTRATING IT IS?"

Draco couldn't form words because of the searing pain in his arm.

"Do you want to know _why_ I can't arrest you?" Harry spat out. He released his hold abruptly. "It's because, _apparently_, absence of evidence is evidence of absence. I can't dig up _any_ dirt on you, so you're a free man. In reality, you are a goddamned lunatic, aren't you? What? Did you think just because you could cry a little convincingly and _beg_ me, I'd just _fall_ into your lap? Do you _honestly_ think I'm _that_ naïve?"

"L-let me go," Draco mumbled weakly.

"You get off on pain, don't you?" Harry touched his wand to Draco's head again, sending another torrent of pain through him.

Draco fell limp as soon as the curse was taken off of him. Harry watched the man breathe heavily for a few moments as he walked around to the other side of the bed. He sat down on the edge of it while examining his wand. "I know I can't break you," he confessed. "Nothing I do can crack you. I've tried. That kindness and compassion you talked about last night? That was me 'trying'. They tried with pain, didn't they? They tried everything already. They probably even tried the Cruciatus on you." He shifted in bed so he was sitting against the pillow beside Draco. "Did you know that is one of the few curses that I can't perform? Hmm… They kicked you when you were down. They nearly killed you. And here I am on the other side, trying to charm that same information out of you. Nothing. You give me absolutely nothing, just like you gave them absolutely nothing. No wonder they got desperate enough with you to actually scar you. You are one tough snake." He put his wand down. "Nothing I do will break you." He slid his fingers down Draco's bare neck. He smiled when he felt a shiver. "Oh?"

"D-don't kill me," Draco whispered hoarsely. Even as he said it, his face betrayed a sense of hopelessness, as though he was dead already.

"Unlike what you might think, I _am_ capable of being cruel. I _can_ think like the snake you are." Draco choked back a cry as he felt Harry's warm fingers wrap around his neck and squeeze. "At first I thought you were a trap. A trap set by the Dark Army. The perfect picture of a victim – helpless, tired, scared, and oh so remorseful. But that would mean you were _really_ good at faking injuries. And I know you aren't _that_ good, Draco. They really did hurt you, didn't they? They really did break your fingers, keep you chained like a dog, and humiliate every fiber of your pride, didn't they? When you talk about them, your eyes are…" He paused, letting go of his neck. "Your eyes are terrifying when you spoke to me about what they did to you. You want to kill them, don't you? Why did they torture you? I don't think it was for information at all. I think it was for sport. Did you defect? Were they punishing you for insolence or… something else? Because what they did to you was beyond human."

"Harry," Draco whimpered.

"Or maybe you instigated them," the Auror continued. "That makes a _lot_ more sense to me. You goaded them into beating you. But why? Why would you want them to hurt you? Demean you? You are _such_ a _fucking_ mystery."

"P-please. Please."

"Hey," Harry interjected suddenly. He got up on his knees and slid one leg over Draco's hip, straddling him like the night before. Draco jerked with a sharp inhale. "They raped you, didn't they?" He started undoing Draco's pants. "Maybe I should try that."

"Wh-what?"

"I mean, you've already been their submissive bitch." He stared down at Draco with a smirk. "Think of this as just another fuck. Let's try it rough and dry."

Draco threw his head to the side to let out a shuddering breath. Then another. And another.

Until it became apparent that he was trying to hold in his laughter.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6  
**

It took him a moment to regain his composure. Gone were those helpless tears and trembling lips. He wasn't shaking in fear or holding in sobs. His clenched fists suddenly relaxed. His slender fingers no longer clawed at the invisible binds; they caressed them. His lips were curled up into a lazy smile. "It's just a bit of fun," he purred. "No harm."

"You fucking psycho."

"Oh, _come on_." Draco laughed airily. "Like you haven't been playing me."

"What do you want?"

"Let me go?"

"Why? So you can strangle me to death?"

Draco tilted his head at Harry. "I _am_ a good fuck, Potter," he remarked instead of answering the question. "You wouldn't have complained. Trust me."

Harry grimaced and then shuddered, as though he couldn't believe that Draco would have actually opened his legs to keep up his charade.

"You've been using me too, so let's stop with this morality bullshit, alright?" the bound man responded to Harry's reaction.

"Tell me what you want."

Draco shook his head while keeping his sly smile in place. "You didn't _have_ to torture me," he hummed. "You could have ended up killing me." He brought his knees up suddenly, striking Harry's back and throwing him off balance. The Auror pitched forward, catching himself just before he smacked into his prisoner. They were just inches apart. Draco closed his eyes and slid the tip of his nose over Harry's cheek. "You could have killed me, love…"

"Don't bother," Harry hissed before shoving Draco firmly against the bed and sitting up again.

"Harry," Draco pouted. "My arm hurts. I _swear_. Let me go?"

He slashed his wand at Draco to undo his bonds. "God damn you, I'd love to see you in jail."

"Oh man," Draco moaned as he pulled his arms down to his chest where he cradled them. "I never knew you had it in you. I really did underestimate you."

Harry raked his hands through Draco's hair and jerked him up. Draco looked at him without pretense. There was no mask of pain or hesitance to hide behind. Just like old times… "Who are you?"

"I trusted you. It's a good thing I've taken a liking for you, Potter," Draco said through gritted teeth. He reached out to grab a fistful of Harry's shirt before sitting up straight. They were pressed together from their hip to their chest.

Harry inhaled sharply as Draco kissed him. This kiss was so different. It was too passionate and angry. There was so much heat behind it, as though Draco was trying to decide if he wanted to hurt Harry or make love to him. Harry lost his breath in that kiss. "Are you part of the Dark Army?" he gasped out.

Draco rammed his fist against Harry's side, knocking him over onto the bed, and restrained his hands to the pillows while pinning him down as he groaned in pain and dismay. "Unlike you, I'm pretty good at the Cruciatus curse."

Harry lurched with an angry roar, but Draco was faster.

Ten minutes later, Harry was curled up in bed in tears while Draco stood up with a wince. His arm was killing him and the pounding in his head wouldn't let up. When Harry had first started torturing him, he had been _so sure_ that it was all a bad dream. The pain kept reminding him that this obviously wasn't. He was quite tempted to hurt Harry a bit more for all the agony, but he didn't want to end up killing the poor guy.

Or maybe he _did_ want to do that.

He sauntered over to the Auror who seemed to be flickering in and out of consciousness. "Hey, Potter," he called. Harry responded with a weak murmur. Blood trickled down the corner of his mouth and his face was slackened, almost senseless. Draco smiled cruelly when he caught it all. "I did enjoy our time together," he admitted. He moved aside damp strands of hair from Harry's forehead. "I never knew what you were hiding inside you." He traced the scar lightly. He had always wanted to do that.

Harry threw his weight back and his legs shot forwards, catching Draco in the stomach and sending him flying into the wall. The wall shook violently from the force. Draco sagged to the ground in a daze.

Harry rolled out of bed with some difficulty, waiting for his insides to stop cramping up before he stood up straighter. He limped over to Draco and knelt down. "You just keep trying, don't you? You never know when you stop," he tsked. "Am I such an easy target?"

"I'm going to be sick," Draco mumbled before fainting into Harry's arms.

"Of course, you are," he sighed.

After dragging Draco back to bed and struggling to get his limp body on it, he took a look at the rather bloody bandages, not bothering to hide his sorry wince. He had done a number on that burn. It would be a miracle if he hadn't just scarred Draco for life. He unwound the gauze after bringing over the first-aid kit. "Shit," he swore in defeat when he got to the bloody lacerations caused by excessive force. He hovered his hand over the cuts. He could feel the heat from inflammation; that was how grave the injuries were. He sighed in dismay before arranging all the potions and ointments on the bed.

"You got multiple personalities or what?"

Harry darted his eyes up to meet Draco's confused frown. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

Draco chuckled sluggishly as he threw his good arm over his eyes. "Well… Thanks for being gentle," he murmured.

Harry worked quickly so he wouldn't leave the open wounds unwrapped for too long. After cleaning up the blood, he saw that he had managed to rip through the new skin that had been forming. He balked at it. No wonder Draco was being more than accommodating at the moment. He was probably too weak to move. He reached into the first-aid bag and pulled out a painkiller. "Drink this," he told Draco, who didn't fuss. Then he patched up the wounds as best he could, applying cooling aloe and dittany on it to quicken the healing. Afterwards, he wrapped it up in clean bandages, rendering the first-aid kit nearly empty. "All done."

He was met with no response.

He took the time to examine Draco. He carried himself entirely differently now, almost regal in his movements instead of hesitant. His hands no longer trembled. His lips weren't being chewed up by nervous teeth. His slouch disappeared into casual ease. Harry wanted to know so much about this Malfoy. "Tell me," he urged.

"I've never killed anyone. On purpose."

"Mhm."

Draco moved his arm away from his eyes to look at Harry. "You think that's a lie?"

"Yes. All you've done is lie."

"It's too easy to kill," he retorted. "It's a coward's revenge. It's a shame to kill them when they could suffer so much more if they're alive."

"Who are _they_?"

"They used to be such easy targets too," Draco remarked. "They were just pawns. None of them had a grain of intelligence or wit about them. But, eventually they figured out that they needed to stay underground. It took me another two years to finally spot them. And… I figured… might as well let them catch me."

"Did you have a death wish?"

"Yeah. Probably." He moved his arm over his eyes again so he wouldn't have to see Harry as he spoke. "It was a win-win situation. I either died or I lived with enough information."

"What did they have against you?"

"They thought I was a traitor. They thought I had betrayed them by confessing in court. They wanted to do everything they could to make sure I knew. They thought I still remembered the things I had heard when I was sixteen. Idiots. I couldn't give them anything useful. I pretended though. I pretended I knew more than I knew. They believed me, kept me around for weeks. Barely."

"They really did hurt you?"

"I told you that, didn't I?" He moved his arm away so he could look at Harry. "Hmm?"

"I didn't believe you."

"Since when have you not believed me?"

Harry remained mum.

"You've got to be fucking with me," Draco said tiredly. "I knew something was up with you. I should have known."

"Did you really think I'd sleep with you because you begged me to?"

"And I thought I had you fooled too…"

"It was a good show to watch, if that's any consolation."

Draco snorted in derision.

"You're ambidextrous, but no one knows," Harry started. "Sometimes you forget. You hate feeling dependent, so you forget that you aren't supposed to use your left hand around me."

"Damn."

"And your pain tolerance is unbelievable. It doesn't complement your vulnerability. I could always see the struggle when we spoke. You're always holding back," he continued. "And, even when you're holding back, you say things… Things that send shivers down my spine. It's like you have no care for consequences. You only care about now. Here. The present. Psychopathic." He traced Draco's jaw line with his fingers. "You know something, Malfoy. The last three raids I did were busts and a bloody waste of time and resources. You know information about the Dark Army. I don't know how, but you know things. You know too much."

"Can we chalk it up to divination?"

"Let's not."

"I hate pain, Potter. I'm not joking," he said. "I may get off on it, but I hate it. I hate a lot of things. I hate my parents. I hate the war. I hate court. I hate Azkaban. I hate the Ministry. I hate the Dark Army." He paused for a moment before reaching out to tug at Harry's shirt absently. "I hate everything. Now do you understand?"

"Are you working with others?"

"Hmm."

"And… you were planning on using the information you got from that basement to hunt down the Dark Army?"

"Your words, Potter. It could just be hearsay."

"You're doing my job?"

"I thought your job was to catch the bad guys."

"I don't know what to believe anymore…"

Draco let his fingers trail down until they rested against Harry's waist. "Is that why you lied about Teddy?" he whispered.

Harry's eyes flickered with recognition but his expression didn't betray anything but blankness. "What?" he asked.

"Teddy. He's too young to be at Hogwarts."

"Is he, now?"

"I thought you'd just slipped up. But you've been lying to me, haven't you? I didn't realize it until now. You lied to me. Since that first visit, you knew not to trust me. What else have you lied about?"

Harry shifted away from Draco.

"Were you scared? Did you think I'd hurt him?"

"Yes."

"You told me to trust you. But you didn't trust me."

"I couldn't."

"You're smart."

"I know."

Draco sat up fluidly. "I'd never hurt him, okay?" he said honestly. "You can trust me now."

"I probably shouldn't."

They sat in silence for while, taking the time to absorb all the things that had happened. Harry stared at the wall distantly, no doubt thinking rapidly of his next course of action. He'd need to gather intel and a whole load of information on the psychopath he was sitting in bed with. He didn't even know where to begin. Draco and his group of rogue Death Eaters were hunting down what remained of the Dark Army, slaughtering them in the goriest way possible.

Draco rocked forward with a cheeky smirk, winding his good arm around Harry's shoulder and pulling him close. "You probably couldn't have gotten it up anyway, huh? To fuck me," he mock whispered.

"Of course not," Harry answered, arching a derisive brow. "Why? Could you?"

Draco hummed and made a show of thinking. Then he said, "Not last night. I was a bit worried. I could have faked it for a bit. But… you were right about me getting off on pain, so… I could probably get it up right now."

"Are you asking me to fuck you?"

"Yeah."

Harry leaned in even closer to look Draco in the eye. "How can I," he asked, "if I still find you repulsive, you fucking piece of shit?"

Draco winced despite widening his smile. "You go _right_ for the kill, don't you?" He kissed Harry sensually, tasting his lips and feeling his warmth. "Hmm," he sighed before pulling away. "When you _do_ get over how repulsive I am, you know where to find me."

Harry moved back and got out of bed. He probably looked worse for wear. He hadn't felt a Cruciatus curse in ages. He ran a hand through his hair and straightened out his clothes. Draco leaned against the pillows to watch with obvious greedy eyes. "Make no mistake, Malfoy," Harry warned lightly as he stowed his wand. "I'll be on your case so fast that you won't have time to squeeze out those fat tears and beg for a pity fuck. Okay?"

"One of us will just wind up dead, Potter. Stop bothering me."

"Then may the best man win, I suppose." Harry made his way to the door.

"Hey," Draco called after him. "Do I get to file a brutality complaint?"

"Yeah, you go do that," Harry muttered under his breath. He paused with a hand on the doorknob when he heard quick rustling of fabric behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to find Draco kneeling at the edge of the bed, peeking out at him from around the corner. "What?" he asked.

"I'm a _very_ dangerous man, Potter," Draco said importantly. "You probably shouldn't keep your eyes off of me for too long. Okay?"

"Right," Harry sighed before letting himself out. Malfoy was sending chills down his spine.


End file.
